


Shift

by Sasou_Amalie



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drugs, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Graphic Violence, Recreational Drug Use, Smut, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-13 03:10:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15354909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sasou_Amalie/pseuds/Sasou_Amalie
Summary: Elliot and Angela enjoy a night out until an unexpected situation triggers the appearance of Mr. Robot.To give you guys a rough time frame:This story is set around september 2014, after Shayla moved in next door, but before Darlene comes to visit Elliot on Halloween.





	Shift

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any punctuation or grammar mistakes, english is not my first language.  
> Hope you enjoy this anyways.

Angela sat on Elliot’s couch, her legs crossed underneath her body, drawing on the joint Elliot had prepared for the both of them.  
"Fuckin’ Ollie," Angela huffed. "I can’t believe that asshole got so shitfaced he kissed another girl."  
She blew a strand of hair out of her field of vision and passed the joint on to Elliot, who looked at her sideways.  
He didn’t have the heart to tell her about the fact that Ollie did much more than kissing girls. He had hacked him, like he did hack every boyfriend Angela introduced him to. Since he had known her, she had a shitty taste in men and someone had to protect her from the ramifications of her poor choices. Ollie’s simpleminded- and carelessness made him manageable and Elliot was not quite ready to see what she’d come up with after him, so he kept his mouth shut.  
"I think I’m gonna crash here, if you don’t mind," Angela said, watching Elliot blowing out a cloud of thick smoke "So he can worry about me, for a change."  
"Sure," Elliot said, staring into the void. What he wouldn't give to be normal. He took another pensive draw and kept the smoke buried in his lung. He envied Angela for the ordinariness of her problems that could be solved with such simple, logic solutions.  
"So, what have you been up to?" Angela asked, waiting for him to hand her the joint.  
"Nothing much," he answered after releasing the smoke, avoiding her inquisitive stare "Still looking for a job though."  
"Yeah, I told you I could get you a job at Allsafe," Angela said and he could hear the accusing tone in her voice "All you have to do is ask." A smile crept on her lips as she was leaning over to pluck the joint out of Elliot’s fingers, her hair tickling his hand.  
She inhaled the smoke and blew it out through her nose. "Gideon would fucking love you."  
Elliot cleared his throat. "How come?" he asked.  
"Well, you know your shit around computers," Angela stated matter-of-factly "I mean… we do have good engineers, but not as good as you are." The tone of her voice was extra-sweet to convince him. "Come on, it would be perfect to have you there, we could go for lunch together."  
Elliot smiled at the idea of spending all his breaks with Angela, sitting in a park around the corner, both of them with a bowl of overpriced salad, talking about their daily life. "Yeah, that’d be cool."  
"Let’s go for a drink after this thing is finished," she said while critically inspecting the remains of the joint "I need alcohol to deal with this shit."  
Elliot hesitated, he didn’t want to leave the flat if it wasn’t necessary. "You’re sure that getting drunk is a good idea?" he picked at the seam of his hoodie. "I mean we could stay, watch _Back to the Future 2_ and order in." He shrugged as he saw the disappointment in Angela’s face.  
"Come on, get over your weird social stuff!" she teased. "Just a few drinks, maybe some food, we’ll be back in no time. Please!" She batted her eyes at him, but Elliot couldn’t help it, fear started tightening his chest and made it impossible to breathe. A stinging sensation wandered from the base of his skull along his spine, making him shiver. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, trying to brace himself. _Maybe they would leave me alone if I was with Angela, maybe they even had stopped watching me._ Angela stubbed the remains of the joint into the ashtray and looked at him.  
"Okay, fine. Two drinks and maybe some McDonalds," he gave in.

 ***

Elliot scanned the bar from underneath his hood as he slid through the door, following Angela inside, praying that she wouldn’t choose the booth in front of the window where she usually sat with Ollie. Being on display like that would only make things easier for them.  
"Let’s sit somewhere in the back," she said as if she had read his mind, looking for two unoccupied seats "I hate the spot at the window, but Ollie always insists…" Angela turned around and looked at Elliot, whose gaze darted through the room.  
"Are you okay?" she raised a brow at him and he looked sort of busted.  
"Yeah, you know it’s just… I’m high as a fucking kite," he drawled and attempted a smile, which made Angela chuckle lightly.  
"Let’s take those seats," she said, motioning him to follow her. "Sit, I’ll get us something to drink. What do you want? Beer?"  
Elliot gave her a short nod and ran his fingers through his hair after he lowered his hood. "Thanks."  
He watched Angela while she made her way to the bar, ordering their drinks. So far he hadn’t seen anyone following them, but somehow the knot in his stomach wouldn’t untie. 

Angela leaned against the bar and observed Elliot. He seemed off today, not like he had ever been the life of any party, but his reluctance to leave his apartment was concerning. Angela never got why he liked spending that much time in front of his computer, although he basically had been like this for all the time she’d known him. She sighed as he took out is phone and stared at the display, the bright light illuminating the sharpness of his features. Angela wished that he’d talk to her sometimes, so she’d feel less alone with her stupid problems. She grabbed their drinks and went back to their table.  
"What’s new on Facebook?" she joked, placing the beer in front of him.  
"You know that I’m not on there 'cause I fucking hate it" he dismissed her joke while glaring at her in disbelief.  
"Maybe you should be," she suggested, sipping on her white wine. "To meet new people."  
Elliot snorted and wiped the fogged up beer glass with his thumb.  
"Don’t you think it would be fun to hang out with someone other than me for a change?" Angela brushed a loose strand behind her ear "Aren’t you sick of me already?"

Elliot paused and took a sip of beer to gain time before answering. How could he ever get sick of her? Angela was the one constant in his life, his childhood friend, the only person he could trust, maybe even more than Darlene.  
Sure, she could be a bit high-strung and naive sometimes, but her heart was made of gold and she genuinely cared about him, despite all his flaws. He would never completely let his guard down around her, but he felt comfortable enough to let her in on some of his thoughts.  
Reminiscing about social interactions made him cringe internally, like that one time he lent his neighbor a glass of water for her beta fish and ended up having an awkward conversation about concerts on the stairs of his house while she tried to get to know him.  
The fish, he had named him Qwerty, remained in his custody. By now they were acquaintances, maybe friends even, given the fact that he bought his morphine and weed from her on a regular basis.  
"God, I hate it when I talk to you and you think of something else!" Angela sighed and downed her glass of wine before angrily leaving their table to get another drink.

  ***

"I sometimes think I should break up with Ollie," Angela said before she put a handful of fries in her mouth. "He just doesn’t deserve me, you know?" Elliot faintly smiled at her statement which was fueled by two drinks that eventually had turned into five.   
"But I can’t afford living alone and I sure as shit don’t wanna move in with dad again. A fucking two-hour commute to get to the city? Who has fucking time for that?!" Elliot grinned at how careless she swore when she was drunk. She chewed loudly on another portion of fries. "Fuck guys, seriously."  
Elliot rolled his eyes at her. "Sorry," Angela laughed and threw her arms around his neck, pulling him into a short hug. "You’re the only good guy I know."  
He thought about the first time he had hacked Angela, shortly after she had moved to the city and started dating Ollie. Elliot had seen her finances, student loan debts so high she would work to pay them back until eternity, given her current salary, and there was nothing he could do about that. He cursed his helplessness and the fact that there was no way to escape the endless nightmare called capitalism.

"Hurry up Elliot, maybe we can catch the F-train home," Angela laughed and pulled at his arm, completely unaware of the shadow that had been following them for the last five minutes and made his way into the subway station right behind them.  
Elliot felt his nervousness coming back, how stupid it had been to believe they would leave him alone on a night out with a friend. He threw back some stealthy glances, but their shadow did his best to stay hidden. _Fucking men in black, how could they know what he was up to?_ He looked over his shoulder again. 

"Shit, the train!" he heard Angela shout as she jogged down the stairs. "Elliot!"  
He jumped right in before the door closed and the train started moving, leaving the man, dressed in a black coat, behind on the deserted platform.  
Elliot sighed and closed his eyes, while Angela sat down, a soggy burger in one, the McDonalds paper bag in her other hand.  
"What the fuck was that?" she asked, looking at him, not specifying what she meant.  
"What are you talking about?" Elliot asked, frowning. _Did she see them too?_  
"Never mind," she said, taking a bite of her burger. "Come sit with me."  
He pulled up his hood and sat down next to her, eyeing everyone in their compartment. Nothing too suspicious besides one ragged guy, who occupied a row of seats by lying down on them, obviously sleeping off his intoxication with his baseball cap covering his eyes from the bright subway lighting.

Just another victim of politics and life, Elliot concluded, his eyes still fixed onto the guy’s dirty olive green worker jacket. _Wouldn’t the world be better without debt? Without money? It was maddening, people just wanted to consume, their worth seemingly defined by the money they earned and the belongings they piled up, not being aware of the gigantic circle jerk they participated in. Money made them blind for everything that was really going on. The biggest conspiracy the world had ever seen, threaded by the people who secretly ran the world, the top…_

"That was a fucking close call, kiddo!" the ragged guy sat up, lifting his baseball cap as a greeting. He was middle-aged, a scruffy beard graced his face, his eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses. Stains of unknown origin covered his worn-in clothes, but contrary to Elliot’s assessment he didn’t seem drunk. He took off his shades and his gaze was clear and intelligent, almost calculating.  
"You should have been smarter than this." His eyes darted from Angela, who was absorbed in her phone, to Elliot, who stared back at him in disbelief. "What?"  
"Yeah, I know," Angela said. "Why do I even care about it?" She took another bite, then turned her head to look at Elliot whose brows were furrowed with concern. "Are you okay?"  
"Huh?" he answered, still staring at the guy with the cap.  
"Elliot!", Angela lightly touched his shoulder. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He almost jumped out of his skin, his face showing a puzzled expression.  
"Well, I guess I’ll see you around, kiddo," baseball hat said nonchalantly, while getting up and walking towards the door "Gotta go."  
"Uh… nothing," Elliot replied, rubbing his face "Just realized how drunk I really am." He attempted to hide his confusion behind a crooked smile, which seemed to satisfy Angela.

 ***

"God, I always forget how shitty your neighborhood is," Angela chuckled as they left the subway station and tried to avoid food scraps and trash strewn across the sidewalk.  
Elliot stayed silent, the mysterious encounter still occupying his thoughts. Baseball hat seemed vaguely familiar and he racked his brains to figure out where he had seen the guy before.  
"Are you even listening?" Angela gently nudged him, pulling him out of his thought spiral.  
"Uh… yeah," Elliot answered and lowered his hood to look at her.  
"No, you’re not," Angela huffed "But that’s okay, we’re almost at your place anyway."  
Elliot rummaged through the pockets of his hoodie and pulled out his keys to open the door. As Angela walked past him, he shot a quick glance over his shoulder to check if anyone had followed them, but the street was empty except for the usual lowlifes hanging around.  
No baseball hat or men in black in sight, but somehow the panic wouldn’t settle.

 ***

Angela got up and took a dusty glass out of one of the kitchen cabinets to get some water.  
Taking a few sips, she walked over to his computer and looked at the shelf next to it.  
Her eyes fell on a polaroid, hidden behind an electric screwdriver.  
"Oh wow, this must have been taken on one of the notorious Alderson family trips!" she laughed, waving the polaroid at him. Elliot, who had sunken into his couch, smoking another blunt, rolled his head to the side to look at it. It was the picture they took when they went to Coney Island for the last time.  
_Mom kept complaining about the wind that was constantly blowing her hat off her hair and Darlene threw a shit-fit and started crying ‘cause she wasn’t allowed to ride the Wonder Wheel with me and Dad._  
It would have been a great day, but his dad’s illness lingered in the backs of all their minds, causing a huge fight between their parents on the way back home.  
"Yeah, actually the last one before… you know…" his hand vaguely gesturing into the emptiness of the room. A hint of concern crossed Angela’s face. "Sorry," she said, tucking the polaroid back where it belonged "I wonder how Darlene is doing these days."  
"She’s been out of town for several months now, haven’t heard a word since we got into that fight at Mom’s nursing home."  
"You never actually told me what that was about," Angela noted, taking the joint from him.  
"It was about Dad." Elliot sighed. "It’s always about him. She was upset and decided to shit all over him, calling him a coward for not seeking out another treatment option and stuff like that. In her misguided sense of justice she suggested avenging his death." He chuckled lightly as if the idea amused him and sat up on the edge of the couch. "When I wouldn't wanna listen, she went off on me, telling me I was just as weak and dickless as Dad."

"Hm," was Angela’s only comment before she took another drag. "But don’t you think that she’s right? Like, there’s some truth in what she said." Her voice muffled by the smoke, she looked at Elliot "I mean I was fucking broken up about my Mom. I still am. But I’m also furious because she gave up so easily. There was this person, offering to pay for her treatment you know, but she refused… and decided to just die. What kind of decision is that?" Her voice grew louder with every word as she went to his dining table, slamming the half empty glass on it. She dropped the joint butt into the glass and braced herself on the table, taking a few deep breaths, trying to blink the tears away.  
"It was fucking weak and inconsiderate to leave Dad and me behind like that," she said heatedly, turning towards Elliot with an expression somewhere between anger and disappointment.  
"Calm down, Angela," Elliot appeased and got off the couch. "There’s nothing we can do about it. It’s all in the past." He lifted his hands like some kind of peace offering.  
"No, it’s not," Angela answered back "Look at what they did to us! Don’t you think our lives would be different if we didn’t have such cowards for parents?"  
"Angela!" Elliot warned her.  
"You spend all your time hiding out in this apartment, avoiding the real world because you’re scared of God knows what, wasting your time on computers!" Angela yelled at him. "Because you’re just as spineless and scared as he was!"  
"Shut the fuck up!" he growled while moving in on her, his eyes so wide she could see the white around his irises. "Don’t FUCKING talk about him like that!"

Mr. Robot put his left hand around her throat and pushed her back against the door lintel that separated the bedroom from the rest of his apartment.  
"Elliot," Angela gasped, her voice strained, as Mr. Robot’s grip tightened. Her brows furrowed over wide eyes that were desperately trying to catch his gaze. He could feel her trembling underneath his grip, her gaze frantically searching for some sanity behind his. He moved his hand towards her jaw, tilting her head up, finally looking into her eyes. She stared right into his soul and Mr. Robot couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been found out in a matter of seconds. 

As soon as he let her peek behind his facade, she realized that something inside Elliot had shifted. It wasn’t the fact that he stared at her when he usually would break eye contact as soon as possible, but there was a force lurking inside of him, a certain danger she couldn’t put a finger on. The sense of urgency in every move he made was atypical for Elliot. Her pulse quickened, she could feel her heart beating in her chest, sending shockwaves through her body. Whatever – _who_ ever this was, it wasn’t Elliot, but she felt drawn to the darkness that had taken over nevertheless. After all it had to be a part of him too, a part he had kept hidden from her, only allowing her glimpses from time to time. She felt a tingling sensation in her stomach, spreading to her thighs, making her weak at the knees. Angela wanted him, she wanted someone else to be in charge of making the decisions, telling her what to do when she didn’t know.

Angela relaxed into his touch and lowered her lids, peering at him through the black of her lashes. Her lips parted and he could feel her warm breath on his face, before she proceeded to close the space between them. It was a hungry, relentless kiss that felt like a continuous fight between the two of them. Teeth grazing, drawing blood, biting back, trying to keep the upper hand.  
Angela grabbed him by his loose shirt, pulling him closer towards her body, as he used both of his hands to hold her face.  
He could feel his arousal building up when Angela broke the kiss to calm her hitched breathing. Strands of her soft hair stuck to her forehead, she stared at him, trying to decide if this was really what she wanted.  
"What’s with that look on your face?" Mr. Robot asked, his tone rough as he swallowed hard.  
"I’m just trying to figure out if you can handle this," she laughed softly, pushing her hair behind her shoulder.  
He smirked instead of answering and slowly moved his hands down her back, towards her thighs. Angela closed her eyes and shivered before Mr. Robot grabbed her so hard that it would leave bruises for days, lifted her up and carried her towards his desk.  
He carelessly dropped her on his keyboard, pushing her back against the monitors. As their lips locked again, Angela could feel the screens behind her drifting apart, some cables and edges of hardware pressed into her skin, but she didn’t care. Instead she held on to his shirt and bit his lower lip until she tasted blood and he let out a muffled whine.

  ***

His left hand groping Angela’s thigh, Mr. Robot used the other one to open his belt with jittery fingers, which was surely caused by the few drinks they just had. Suddenly he felt Angela’s hands next to his, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans with quick fingers, pushing them down towards his knees. It felt relieving not to be restrained by Elliot’s tight black jeans anymore, so he used both of his hands to pull Angela’s hips towards his.  
She gasped as soon as she felt his arousal and pulled back to face him.  
"Take off your shirt!" Mr. Robot ordered with a sly grin and Angela obeyed, wriggling the fabric over her head, leaving only strands of hair falling on her soft bra, looking at him bright eyed.  
Mr. Robot pressed impetuous kisses on her throat and collarbones as she was tugging at his shirt, urging him to remove it, too. He straightened up and reached behind his back to get rid of it, leaving his hair disheveled, streaks curling onto his forehead.  
Angela looked at Elliot, standing in front of her, only wearing black boxers. She couldn’t remember when she had last seen him without his obligatory hoodie and generic black jeans and had to admit that he was in better shape than she would have thought. Sure, he was skinny, but more in a lean than unhealthy way, and she was mesmerized by his muscles moving underneath his warm skin.  
He smirked as if he could read her thoughts and proceeded to unbutton her pants only to forcefully pull them off her legs.

Mr. Robot took a second to enjoy the view of Angela sitting on his disarranged table, breathing heavily, staring him dead in the eye. She spread her legs a little further and he rubbed his face in disbelief about her audacious invitation. He wanted to fuck her right then and there, but took his time to step out of his pants that were bunched around his ankles first.  
The anger he had felt earlier was gone, all he could think about was how desperately he wanted to be close to her, to please her in every way possible. He leaned over her to press his lips on Angela’s again, coaxing her into opening her mouth for him. While their kiss got more heated and demanding, he pulled her soaked underwear aside and softly placed his thumb between her wet folds, causing her to draw a sharp breath. Angela let her head fall back, buried one hand in his hair and used the other one to support herself on his desk as he started moving his thumb lazily up and down, gently grazing her clit.  
  
"Elliot," she moaned, eyes closed under knitted brows. He felt his erection getting even harder with every soft noise of pleasure seeping from her lips as he gently pushed his thumb inside her. Her fingers traced along the thin line of dark hair leading into his shorts, nails brushing his tip, making him groan. Pulling him closer with the hand she had placed in his neck, she brought her lips to his ear and whispered "Fuck me, Elliot, I know you want to."

Angela chuckled softly at the short expression of bewilderment on his face before he pulled himself back together. He grabbed her panties with rough hands and slowly dragged them down her legs, keeping her gaze fixed with his as he bend down, causing her to smile. He knelt in front of her, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes before pushing her legs apart and pulling her to the edge of the desk. He started working his thumb in circles around her wet folds, marveling at Angela unravelling beneath his deft fingers. Just as her moans got more pressing and desperate, he slowly pushed two digits inside of her and started moving them while his lips found their way between her thighs. Angela gasped with despair as soon as the tip of his tongue grazed her swollen and oversensitive clit. A rasp "Oh God!" escaped her throat as she pushed her hips towards his tireless tongue to increase the friction. At the first sign of her getting closer to climaxing he pulled back, making Angela sigh with frustration.   
  
He gave her one of his half-smiles and pushed his hands into her hair to pull her into another kiss. Angela snuck her fingers into his boxers, unwrapping his erection, gently working her hand up and down his length. He kept his lips pressed shut to prevent the groans of pleasure forming in his throat from escaping into the nightly silence of his apartment. Angela tightened her grip, causing Mr. Robot to buck into her touch. His chopped breathing barely hid the urgency fueling his desire and she felt him pulsing while guiding him towards her entrance.  
Mr. Robot broke the kiss and hissed as soon as he felt her warm wetness on his tip. He buried one hand in Angela’s hair and used the other one to move her hips closer to his, feeling her velvety softness wrap tightly around every inch of him. He gave Angela a few seconds to adjust before he started moving slow and steady. She moaned and tried to get closer to him, but he held her hips in place as he started picking up the pace.  
"God, Elliot," Angela sighed, anchoring herself with one hand to his chest, the other on placed on his desk. A string of soft moans escaped her mouth, sending shocks through his spine. What he wouldn’t give to stay in this moment forever, the universe so perfectly aligned that it almost hurt.

He noticed the familiar pulling sensation in his stomach and pushed even harder into her, making her moan hoarsely between panting breaths.  
"Angela," his voice rough and needy "I’m gonna come."  
"Wait for me," she breathed, grinding her hips on his, adjusting the angle "I’m close."  
Another moan escaped into the silence of the room and Mr. Robot heard that she was smiling. He opened his eyes and looked at her face, brows furrowed in concentration over half lidded eyes, lips slightly parted.  
"Elliot," she sang his name, almost a whisper.  
His breathing hitched, he pressed his eyes shut and pushed himself even deeper into her. He heard one of the screens tip over and some of his stuff thumping on the floor, but he didn’t give a shit. All he cared about was coaxing soft moans out of Angela for as long as he could, but he felt his orgasm coming, knowing the end was near.  
  
"Oh Elliot!" Angela cried out, her muscles clenching around his length inside her. She bucked up underneath him, moaning ecstatically, slamming her hips into his.  
"Fuck!" Mr. Robot felt his muscles tensing and let out a loud groan as he spilled himself into Angela with every shockwave that rolled through his body. He let go of her hair but held on to her hips, letting his orgasm wash over him. He desperately tried to catch his breath and lifted his head to look at Angela, whose face was flushed, covered by a thin layer of sweat. She somehow looked relieved, calm and centered even, as if something just had fallen into place.  
Mr. Robot let his gaze wander over her slim stomach to the point where both of them were still intertwined. He felt her delicate fingers dragging along his jaw, lifting his chin up.

"That was… something else," she said, smiling lightly. Mr. Robot couldn’t help himself, he just stared at her lips, imagining to kiss her again and again.  
"Elliot, what are you thinking about?" she asked, slightly shifting her weight on the desk.  
Instead of answering, he gently lifted her off the wooden surface and turned around to lower her on his mattress.

 ***

Angela wandered around Elliot’s apartment, wearing his shirt, smoking one of his cigarettes. She paused next to the mattress on the floor, looking at Elliot, who was laying in his bed, passed out, his body barely covered by the sheet. She took a draw, inhaling the smoke, keeping it in her lungs for as long as she could.

She watched Elliot’s chest rise and fall with every calm breath he took and a smile played on her lips. What happened earlier felt distant already, as if it had taken place in another life. Somehow she hadn’t slept with Elliot, just like he hadn’t slept with her. Sure, a certain attraction between them was undeniable, but it felt more like a fluke or glitch in the space-time continuum than fate. She was convinced that he wouldn’t even remember it in the morning, given the state he was in and wasn’t sure how to feel about that. She sighed and went to stub the cigarette into the ashtray on the couch table.  
Although everything was oddly clear now, she needed some time to think, so she gathered her belongings and dressed hastily. She gave Elliot one last look and smiled at how peaceful and meek he looked compared to how he behaved just hours ago. Grabbing her phone and purse on the way, she stepped into the hallway and carefully closed the door behind her.

  ***

Elliot woke up to his phone rattling next to his bed and rolled over to check on Angela, but he was alone. The last thing he could remember was the both of them getting into a fight, everything else was just one big blackout. He figured that their heated discussion must have gotten out of control, making Angela leave in the middle of the night. He knew how he could be if someone really pissed him off, after all he lost his job because he flipped his shit at his last place of employment. His confusion grew when he realized that he was naked underneath the sheets and saw his clothes and some hardware scattered across the floor next to his desk. One of his screens had fallen over, too. _Did I wipe everything again? Had Angela really been here?_ He got up and looked around the room, but there was no trace of her besides the glass on his dining table. _She drank from the glass while wandering around in my apartment. She found the polaroid and we talked about it, didn’t we?_ Paranoia started setting in, a constant scream in the back of his mind. _Angela and I smoked a joint and went out for drinks together, we took the subway back home._ He remembered baseball hat and the men in black following him to the subway and Angela being upset.  
"What the fuck happened?" he mumbled, walking to his couch, staring at the McDonalds bag and some fries on the floor.  
"Angela?" He halfheartedly hoped that she’d step out of his bathroom, wrapped in a towel, drying her hair and asking him to go for breakfast later, but there was nothing but roaring silence surrounding him. He furrowed his brows, picked up his boxers and slipped into them on his way back to the bed, back to his phone. He lifted the device and looked at the cracked screen, notifying him about a few missed calls from Ollie and a message sent by Angela.

 **Hey Elliot, had to leave early to drop by at my place, needed my stuff for ballet class.  
** **I’m sorry about yesterday, didn’t mean it. Thanks for keeping me company. Gonna call you later, okay? A**

He dropped his phone on his bed and grabbed his pack of cigarettes. His shaky fingers made it hard to fumble one out, a feeling of relief came over him as soon as he managed to put it in the corner of his mouth to light it, still trying to make sense of the chaos surrounding him.  
Ruffling his hair, he wandered to the couch, sitting down on the cold leather, welcoming the calming nicotine into his lungs.  
_Have I really lost it this time?_ He looked at Qwerty’s tank like he held all the answers, but the fish just floated in the water.  
"Fuck my life," Elliot sighed, letting his head fall on the backrest of the couch.

**Author's Note:**

> Fuck yeah, I really enjoy writing Elliot/Angela fan fiction, because I love, love, love both of their characters.  
> Forgive me for focusing on them only, I need something to cope with the fact that there will probably be no new season before 2019 :(


End file.
